


Phrasing is Important

by GraceEliz



Category: Original Work
Genre: Minor Character Death, Murder, Non-Graphic Violence, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 04:50:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16401629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraceEliz/pseuds/GraceEliz
Summary: A young assassin has a short conversation.NB: Assassin. Someone dies.





	Phrasing is Important

**Author's Note:**

> This has been lurking on my phone for ages. I'm annoyed because tags don't work the same on mobile but I covered the important bits. Enjoy. If you really like it there might be some more. Maybe.

"Another stunt like that, and I'll kill you." 

The speaker was a young man, perhaps eighteen, whose alabaster skin, raven hair and eyes the colour of the noon sky in high summer brought him nothing but trouble. Tall, slender, Aidon had never found anything but contempt. How could he, looking so like the man who had nearly destroyed everything? 

"You know, that's poorly phrased."

Aidon sighed, stood tall and without allowing his eyes to leave the Mark raised an eyebrow. The owner of that voice, he knew, could see him perfectly. Wherever she lurked it was shrouded in the heavy fog that never truly lifted. How fitting, that irritating sarcastic voice in his brain mused, for a centuries-old almost-forgotten graveyard to be constantly shrouded in mist and just happen to be exactly between the cluster of villages in the region.

"I am aware. What do you want?"

When did his voice get so old? He sounded so very tired. Aidon realised his mind was drifting away again - oddly common these days - and forced his attention back to the Mark. No answer from the unseen woman.

"Either way, you won't live out the week. Agree to my terms or go back to the streets. Your choice." Cold, hard, unfeeling. Just as he had to be. The Mark shivered and tremulously swore to do anything for his life. Aidon sighed, gripping the Mark's hair and pulling his head back to bear his neck, looming in the way that frightened soldiers and schoolboys alike. He couldn't allow the Mark's activities to continue. 

The distinctive thump of a body hitting earth, and Aidon wiped the bloodied blade on the Mark's shirt.

He wasn't going to be bothered.


End file.
